No Regrets
by Hopeakaarme
Summary: Dan is thinking. Ryoma would prefer him to simply feel the words Ryoma will never say aloud. Shounen ai RyoDan.


Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. Konomi Takeshi does. I'm merely playing with them for the moment.

A/N: Futurefic. Not connected to my other RyoDan fics. Slightly bittersweet; contains non-graphic handjob.

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No Regrets

It was getting dark outside, as was only appropriate as the day was chased away by the first shades of night. The sun had long since disappeared behind all the buildings, the last hues of red and gold slowly fading out of the sky. No stars appeared in the darkening sky, drowned out as they were by the lights of the city. It may not have been the busy beehive that was Tokyo, not even close, but that didn't mean the city slept at night. New lights appeared even as others faded out, headlights from cars far down below, windows and advertisements and names and decorations. Had one looked down directly enough they might have spotted the streetlights illuminating the front yard of the building dozens of floors down, partly blocked from view by the balcony.

The lights were off in the living room as Ryoma stepped in. He didn't bother reaching for the light switch, instead looking around for his lover. He was fairly easy to spot, a dark silhouette in front of one of the tall windows that made up most of the two walls set along the side of the building, offering an uninterrupted view of the city. Walking slightly closer, Ryoma stopped some ways from him, toes sinking into the thick rug under his feet. "Everything all right?"

"Hm?" The other man turned his head to look at Ryoma over his shoulder, one hand resting lightly on the window. "Why do you ask?"

"Just never took you for the type to brood silently in darkness, that's all." Most definitely not. Ever since they'd first met, the other had always been all bright smiles and sunlight, so very different from his own constant snark. The rare times his lover was upset, it usually led to curling up somewhere warm, not standing mournfully in the middle of shadows.

"Oh, it's nothing," came the response in a forcibly light tone that even Ryoma with his usual lack of social skills could spot for fake. "I was just… thinking."

"Thinking about what?" Ryoma folded his arms across his chest, raising his eyebrow. "Jumping through the glass?"

"If I ever were desperate enough to actually attempt suicide by defenestration, I should hope I'd be sensible enough to choose a window that does not have a balcony right outside," replied the other man with a dry tone. "Not to say multiple lacerations couldn't achieve the same end results, but you have to admit they'd be far less effective."

"You know, Taichi, sometimes you kind of creep me out." Walking closer, Ryoma rested his chin on the slightly shorter male's shoulder, reaching his arms around his lover in a loose hug. "So… what were you thinking about?"

"Just… things." Dan shook his head slowly, turning his eyes back towards the window. "Things like you and me and us and what has happened and how we got here."

"How we got where? America or this place or with me hugging you?" One of the things that had always annoyed him the most about data players was how they often assumed everyone else understood what they were talking about without any explanations. Well, too bad, he wasn't exactly that well tuned to his lover's thoughts.

"All of the above. None of them. I don't know." Dan raised the hand that wasn't resting against the glass to brush against the side of Ryoma's face. "Just… I never could have imagined it would go like this, you know? That we'd ever be working together, or that we'd even get together in the first place, or that I'd follow you all the way here…"

Ryoma frowned. "You regretting it?" he asked. "I didn't exactly drag you along by force, you know…" Rather, he could recall Dan being very enthusiastic about going along, Dan had always been enthusiastic about anything to do with tennis, so much so that he had almost felt bad about making Dan his manager instead of an opponent except he had never made a habit of feeling bad for the things he couldn't help. Dan might have had potential to go all the way, he knew that, the potential and the drive but not the confidence, and though he had made some attempts Ryoma had never been too good at inspiring confidence. Dan had always told him it didn't matter, that he was just as happy standing by Ryoma's side as he would have been going out on his own, and Ryoma had always chosen to believe him because it was just easier that way.

"No, no," Dan murmured hastily. "Never regretting. Just… wondering if things could have gone differently."

"Things could always go differently, Taichi," Ryoma murmured into his ear. "We could have never met, or you could have never taken an interest in tennis, or you could have been gathering wins for yourself instead of helping me. I could have not cracked my ankle, or it could have happened earlier or later, or we could both have been hit by a car on our way home back in middle school. But things didn't go that way, so you ended up here, and now you're stuck with bitter old me for better or worse."

Dan chuckled faintly. "Always the one to look on the lighter side of things, aren't you, love?"

"Nah. Figured that's more of your field of expertise." He loosened his clasped hands, letting them slide over Dan's chest instead, lightly crossing his stomach and down to the waistband of his trousers. Dan drew a sharp breath as he slid his fingertips under the waistband, one which Ryoma responded to with a calming little, "Shhh."

"Ryoma," Dan protested feebly. "You really shouldn't be doing this…" However, he made no real move to step away, despite the fact that Ryoma wasn't exactly holding him close all that forcibly. "Not here."

"Why not?" Ryoma asked calmly. "It's not like anyone can see us. It's dark here and we're way up high anyway. It's not like I'm putting you out on show for everyone to see." Oh, no. He was far too jealous for that.

"But…" Dan's both hands were against the window, now, light ever so light, his hair brushing against Ryoma's cheek just as soft as it had been all those years ago.

"No buts," Ryoma replied. "Just focus, all right? You always were good at that." If there was one thing where Dan had always been able to beat him it was indeed the ability to focus, the level of concentration that made him even forget about calls of score and the accumulating points, the kind of single-mindedness Ryoma himself had never been able to achieve without the use of special techniques. There were no tennis balls now, though, no score or racquets or opponent; what he wanted Dan to concentrate on was him, his touch, his hands as he finally managed to open his lover's trousers, tugging them down from his hips.

The sound that escaped Dan's lips was more a mewl than anything, his head falling against the glass even as his legs spread almost unconsciously to give Ryoma better access. Ryoma made full use of this, sliding Dan's underwear down just enough to get to the important parts, one arm holding him close even as his other hand started playing with his lover.

"Don't think about what-ifs," he murmured softly. "Think about the here and now. Think about me…" Because he was Dan's here and now, wasn't he, Dan had chosen to live his life with Ryoma, and though Ryoma wasn't really one for all that sentimental crap he could at least admit he wanted to think his lover was happy with him. He'd taken Dan so far away from home, far from home and family and friends, and Dan had followed because that was what Dan had always done best wasn't it, and Ryoma had been just selfish enough to let him do it. The least he could do in return was at least make sure Dan was happy, however peculiar that happiness was.

He couldn't give Dan a noisy family and a house with a garden and a white picket fence and gestures of love and affection every day. What he could give was silence in English and a dog and a cat napping together in the kitchen and a hand job in front of a floor-to-ceiling window high above the noise of the city.

As Dan finally shuddered with another low mewl that vaguely resembled his name Ryoma held him even tighter, supporting him even as his fingers curled against the cold glass of the window. Ryoma'd have to clean up later but that wasn't important now, not as he tugged Dan's underwear back up as the other sagged slightly in his hold, keeping him upright.

"You'll catch a cold standing here," Ryoma murmured, and not that they'd have either ever admitted it they knew very well what it meant, it was those three little words Ryoma could never really force out so he kept hiding them in the things he could say and trusting Dan to figure out his personal little code. This far it hadn't failed him, or so he liked to think; at least Dan had never complained about his not saying it aloud so he continued to assume his approach was enough.

Dan didn't say anything in response, just nodded a little, but that was quite enough for Ryoma as he pulled his lover away from the cold glass, away from the falling night. It had started raining outside, streets beaten by the falling rain, making the lights glitter and glisten as they reflected off the wet pavement. Ryoma didn't take much notice as he guided Dan to sit on a couch, trousers still unbuttoned, pushing him down at the corner Dan always liked to curl up at.

Walking to the doorway, Ryoma turned the lights on, making them both blink as the room was suddenly flooded with light. "I'll go and make us some tea," he said, receiving no protest.

The windows gave no more view of the outside, merely reflecting the room as Dan drew a blanket around himself, oblivious to the pouring rain behind the glass.


End file.
